


These Drunken Delights Have Drunken Ends

by illyrilex



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Fantasizing, Gen, Masturbation, Mild Sexual Content, Orgasm, Ryo Sakazaki (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyrilex/pseuds/illyrilex
Summary: An inebriated King spends some quality time with Ryo... sort of.





	These Drunken Delights Have Drunken Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, us authors like to challenge ourselves to write things that are... different. In some cases, out of our comfort zones. Well, this is one of those things. This takes place **before** Much Like Suffocating (but _after_ A Profound Impact) and deals with that one drunken thing mentioned in Oxygen to Breathe. If you've been going here awhile you know what's up. Proceed with caution because this one is definitely not for the kiddos.
> 
> Onward~

The woman who called herself “King” was many things: big sister; bartender; fighter. Well-versed in the art of Muay Thai, she was beautiful and elegant, her every move meticulous and graceful.

“Oh, shit!”  
  
King’s breath caught as she stumbled on thin air and nearly fell flat on her face. She regained her balance with the help of one of her employees, a bartender by the name of Sally who was a cinnamon bun too pure for the world, and continued down the hall toward her apartment, each movement somehow more difficult than the last because of how ridiculously drunk she was. It was the drunkest she had been in recent memory, the result of a drinking contest at her bar that she won by a very narrow margin. She couldn’t remember how many shots she had taken (she knew it was a _lot_ ), or even what they were of; the only thing she _did_ remember was that she was victorious. And that was all that mattered... even if she couldn’t walk straight.

The two women reached a door at the end of the corridor: King dug around in her pocket for her keys as Sally struggled to hold her upright. She pulled them out and stared for a moment. Which key did she need? She tried to jam a particularly large one into the lock, but it didn’t fit.

“Boss, that’s your car key,” Sally said with a frown. “Here.”

Sally took the keys from King’s hand; she found the correct one right away and used it to open the door: She helped her boss into the apartment before placing the keys on the dining room table.  
  
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Sally asked, her big green eyes full of concern.  
“‘M gunna be fiiiiiiine,” King slurred as she rested her hand on the back of a nearby chair. She took a moment to steady herself before awkwardly removing her messenger bag; she haphazardly dropped it on the floor next to her.

“Just… need. The room to stop. Stopping. Stop.”  
“I don’t know… I don’t really feel right leaving you like this…”  
“I promise! I’mma be fine.”

Sally eyed King, her face apprehensive. King, on the other hand, nodded her head up and down, a silly, wide-eyed smile plastered on her face.

“You can barely walk,” Sally pointed out.  
“I can learn.”  
“Boss.”  
“What?” King let go of the chair: she swayed on the spot, but quickly caught herself before she could fall.

God, she was so drunk.

“...Drink some water,” Sally finally said as she hesitantly started walking away.  “And don’t forget to have some Tylenol or ibuprofen ready to go. You’re going to need it…”

“Thanks, mom!”  
  
King closed the door behind Sally: she placed one hand against the flat surface to keep herself as steady as possible as she carefully locked up. She didn’t even bother with the door chain, as she knew that she was nowhere near coordinated enough to slide it onto the little track. She clumsily removed her shoes (a pair of scuffed up boots that were great for kicking), which instantly took a good two inches off of her already impressive height, the small change in her stature somehow akin to riding the goddamn Tower of Terror. As soon as she recovered, King fumbled with the cummerbund around her waist, completely unsure of how to even remove it. After what felt like months she finally got it off and threw it on the floor. She began untucking her shirt, but suddenly noticed her cat sitting on the sofa, regarding her discarded clothing with curiosity.  
  
“Marron!”

King belly flopped onto the couch and buried her face in the cat’s side before he could run away. He smelled like dry cat food and her hand soap, which was a little unexpected but still a pretty great surprise nonetheless, since cats in general usually didn’t smell like lavender, vanilla, or any combination of the two. She nuzzled his belly while she wrapped her arms around him.  
  
“You’re the best,” King murmured. “I love you and you’re the best but you’re gonna have’ta lighten up ‘cuz you’re kinda a dick okay.”

The cat wriggled his way out of his owner’s grasp and ran off toward the kitchen.

“Fine then,” King called as she turned on to her back and shook her fist in the air. “Go do whatever cat things you do!”  
  
King briefly stared up at the ceiling before slowly getting to her feet, still amazed by how absurdly drunk she was. She unbuttoned her pants while she shuffled toward her bedroom; she let the clothing fall to the floor as she unsteadily walked down the short hall.

Random, nonsensical thoughts flitted through King’s head as she climbed in to her bed, which was comfortable and soft and warm and the only place she really wanted to be. She threw herself back against the plush pillows, still unable to remember what the hell she had to drink, but fully aware that she needed to get herself together, lest she end up doing something really stupid, like drunk dialing her friends to ramble about life, or trying to vacuum nonexistent cat food off the kitchen floor at three-thirty in the morning. (Both of those things _did_ sound like pretty good ideas, though…) After a little bit of thought she came to the conclusion that perhaps some television would help her sober up. She reached for the remote on the bedside table: it took several tries for her to actually grab it, but when she did she let out a delighted gasp. Unfortunately she couldn’t remember which side the Power button was on, and the lights in the room were off. With a frustrated groan she set the device aside.

However, King _needed_ to sober up, and watching television until it inevitably put her to sleep would probably be the best course of action. She bunglingly plucked the remote control from its place beside her and pressed a series of random buttons until the television and cable box turned on. The sight that greeted her was… not what she expected: Two completely naked women were making out while really shitty jazz music played in the background.

What the hell channel had she left the TV on?! She quickly went for the Guide button to see what, exactly, was playing, but accidentally hit the volume instead. Her room was quickly filled with the really shitty jazz and moaning.

“Holy shit,” King breathed out loud. She squinted at the screen, mesmerized. How was _that_ even anatomically possible?

King swallowed hard, transfixed, as she focused on the two women, trying to figure out what they were doing. She shook her head and began giggling as she quickly turned the television off. Had she really just stumbled on _porn_ ?! Or was she so drunk that she was seeing things? It didn’t matter, though: with TV being out of the equation she was just going to have to make herself go straight to sleep. She folded her hands together and placed them on her abdomen while she shifted slightly in an attempt to get comfortable.  
  
As King shut her eyes she couldn’t help thinking about what she had just seen. When was the last time _she_ had done anything like that? It had been an embarrassingly long while. So long that she could barely even remember much about her ex. But she did remember… stuff. That woman had been her first (and only) _real_ girlfriend: they had done all sorts of… things. It was kind of awesome but she felt really weird thinking about it after seeing porn and, also, the look on Ryo Sakazaki’s face when she told him she slept with a woman had been amazing.

Wait. Why was she thinking of Ryo? She was so ridiculously drunk that she kept going on weird tangents. All at once she recalled a conversation the pair had a while back where they discussed their body counts. That was funny. Ryo’s expression when she said she had been with a woman as well as a man was priceless. His face flushed such an odd pink colour and he got super flustered, but then he said something -- what was it it he said? -- that gave her the distinct impression that he thought a little differently of her after knowing about her previous exploits. She couldn’t remember what it was to save her life -- only that it made her intensely uncomfortable.

Of course, discomfort in the face of Ryo Sakazaki was not an uncommon occurrence by any means.

King’s mind wandered to one _really_ uncomfortable time when Ryo’s father, sister, and best friend gave the two of them the key to a penthouse suite at one of the city’s nicest hotels. What were they expecting? For her and Ryo to go in there and… what. Have _sex_ ?! How would _that_ even go? King was positive that she would have to be _extremely_ drunk to even _entertain_ the idea: probably blackout, or maybe even on the verge of alcohol poisoning drunk. Not to mention horny. And she wasn’t a horny drunk, so that idea was right out.

Hell, even if she _had_ been the type, it wouldn’t have worked out: Ryo sure as hell wouldn’t know what to do with her. Other than helping her unzip the god awful dress she wore that night (she was so glad she had since donated it to charity) he’d probably be pretty useless. She’d have to be the one to do all the work because of his apparent inability to apply himself to anything that wasn’t fucking karate.

On second thought, she’d probably have to be the one to take off the dress, too.

Or maybe he’d surprise her? Ryo would probably be drunk, too, which would help him loosen up a little. They’d _both_ be drunk as all hell, and they would sit on the couch and laugh way too much and talk about whatever as they continued to drink way too much, his suit and her dress in total disarray, until someone would say something that would plunge them into a weird silence, and Ryo would look at her with those stupidly nice hazel eyes of his and then he would somehow think that leaning over and kissing her was a good idea. And she’d let him because she would be drunk enough to think that making out with her friend would be a _fantastic_ idea. And Ryo would have surprisingly soft lips: not lady soft, of course, but soft enough that King would definitely take notice, and she would start to get incredibly turned on because liquor.

Slowly and without even realizing it, King started to move one hand to her chest while the other travelled down her abdomen, down past the elastic band of her underwear, as she continued to think vividly about the fictional makeout session, which became something else entirely as she imagined all kinds of things that made her blush furiously: She thought about how Ryo’s body would feel against hers as he kissed and fondled her while she worked to unzip his pants (she decided that he would probably be really warm). She thought about him going for her neck, which would turn her on even _more_ than she thought possible because that was _the_ spot (her friends jokingly referred to it as her “fuck me button”), and she thought about how she would carelessly rip that stupid dress off (something would probably tear) before climbing on top of him, and about how that would feel in there, again and again until --

King involuntarily cried out in bliss as every muscle in her body clenched and then relaxed. Just like that it was over: Her breath came in shallow bursts as she lay there with one breast in a death grip, her legs trembling slightly. She shut her eyes, suddenly very tired. That was… _wait_.

Had she just…?

To… Ryo? Ryo Sakazaki?  
  
Her _friend_?!

Her eyes flew open as she looked around in the dark, mortified.

Oh, _shit_.

King quickly threw her covers off with one hand as she removed her other from between her legs. She jumped to her feet and ran to the bathroom, careful not to touch anything. This was bad. This was really, really, really bad. Of all the people in the world why the _fuck_ did her mind drift to _Ryo_ ?! She snatched a washcloth from a cabinet and wiped her hand before turning on the lights and the shower. She had to wash it off -- wash it _all_ off. She hastily stripped down, jumped into the tub (the water was _freezing_ but that was okay) and grabbed her body wash; she poured a considerable amount onto her loofah and began frantically washing. She absolutely couldn’t believe it: She was extremely drunk, panicking under a cold shower because she had just masturbated to her good friend, who had started off as her enemy, who had always been more like a brother than anything else (once they got past their differences, of course).

It was embarrassing, and weird, and… what did it _mean_ ?! _Did_ it mean something? Did it _have_ to? King couldn’t think straight enough to even begin to psychoanalyze the ins and outs of her actions. All of a sudden she felt intensely ill. She finished washing and grabbed her towel; she quickly wrapped it around herself before stumbling to the toilet: She lifted the lid just in time to avoid a disaster.

King proceeded to throw up several times, each one bringing her closer and closer to something that sort of resembled sobriety but wasn’t it by any means. When she was done she stumbled out of the bathroom and over to the bed: she threw herself on to it, facedown. She couldn’t believe what she had done. If anyone ever found out she would die from complete, utter discomposure.

Despite being clad only in her damp towel she closed her eyes and began to drift off.

No one could ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> So now we know why King gets all weird around Ryo LOL
> 
> * The title is a play on the Shakespeare quote "these violent delights have violent ends," from Romeo & Juliet  
> * The Tower of Terror, for anyone who doesn't know, is a ride at California Adventure that drops you from an insane height. And then raises you. And then drops you some more. It's fun, but scary.  
> *The uncomfortable time King is thinking about is the AOF Team's ending from KOF XI.
> 
> Alright, that's it. As always, don't be afraid to tell me what you're thinking. Lizard brain craves feedback.
> 
> Cheers~!


End file.
